


'No Trespassing' is Open to Interpretation

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Kink Bingo 2017 Works [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Impala Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Omega Dean, Pushy Dean, Rough Sex, Slightly Dom Cas, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-22 16:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11971296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: The ‘End of the World’ is constantly looming on the horizon and Dean is sick and tired of it getting between him and his angel.  The mated pair don’t even get a breather to be together because they’re always too busy saving the planet!  Dean says fuck it, he’s done being without his alpha—he’s going tomaketime.





	'No Trespassing' is Open to Interpretation

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: Impala Sex
> 
> Love, love, love to my fabulous beta [GlitchedWings](https://idjitsaviors.tumblr.com/) <3

“Okay, we gotta be quick,” Dean sounded rushed, as he made a U-turn on the road and swung around to look over his shoulder as he backed into a mess of brush and wild grass.

The signs posted on the trees read 'No Trespassing' loud and clear, but the further back they reversed, the more it looked like abandon land.  Whatever house or farmland that used to have an owner was taken back over by mother nature, and those crisp signs by the road remained shiny and new to keep dumbass kids away.  Ones who didn’t want to get in trouble with the cops.  Hell, they were probably posted _by_ cops!  Since this was clearly vacant forest and roaming hills.

Oh, but what Dean had on his mind?  Was a lot more than a simple trespassing violation.  They’d get in much, _much_ more trouble than that little fine, if found out.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Cas’ question was more like an accusation, suspicion lighting up in his scent as Dean shifted the Impala into park.  He followed up with, “Why have you stopped all the way back here?  Dean, we _need_ to get back to the bunker, we need—”

Dean closed the obnoxiously large space between them and kissed the angel.  He hoped the kindling he pushed into it, gently licking the seam of Cas’ lips, would turn into wild fire.  Because he wanted Cas, dammit!  It had been too long, so much bullshit had been happening that Dean figured this was the best way, maybe the only way, they could make it work.  Make _them_ work.

Finally, Cas opened his mouth to allow Dean entrance, giving a small noise of satisfaction.  His hand shot up and grabbed Dean’s coat, and after a few moments of holding him close, Cas used his grasp against him.  The alpha jolted Dean with a rough tug against the fabric to temporarily break the spell.

Castiel was very obviously affected, breathing hard with a lustful gaze, his alpha scent spiking off the charts, but he still had it in him (Cas had the self-control of the goddamn Pope!) to say, “Did my omega make a detour because he couldn’t keep it in his pants?”

“Shut up,” Dean growled, “Do you have any idea how long it’s been, Cas?!”  He was debating on whether to straddle his mate or not, since the goal was dragging Cas into the back seat and that _may_ be counterproductive...  “I think what you meant is, your omega made a detour so we don’t _have_ to keep it in our pants anymore.  Like we’ve been doing for fuckin’ weeks!”

While the words were sharp, they were whispered against Cas’ neck where Dean sucked down on a pulse point… then he came up with a wicked idea.

The angel moaned into the touch, and tried to reach back out to Dean as he pulled away, “I’m not admonishing you, I’m simply saying we could do better than this.  Maybe stop at a quick motel for an hour, where there’s a real bed or—”

“Don’t offend Baby,” Dean poked him in the chest, then a wild grin took over his face.  “We’ve been here before.  We know it works.  I ain’t taking no for an answer.”

“Dean.”  It was a warning.  “If we could just—”

However, the omega pulled out the ace in his deck.  Dean hauled down both his jeans and his boxers, sprung up from where he was sitting, and hung over the seat ‘on his way’ to the back.

Castiel all but choked on his tongue, Dean’s entire backside glistening and dripping slick where he was folded in half.  It was mouthwatering and unfair!  His scent, unobstructed by clothing, was pure sex, and wanton desire.  The alpha reached out and grabbed his thigh, his hand slipping and sliding against Dean’s muscles right before the omega tumbled his way into the back seat.

Now Cas couldn’t be held accountable for his actions.  He snarled out, “You’re a tease, Dean Winchester,” and whipped around to see what the hell his mate was even doing.

Oh, and Dean looked as innocent as ever, untying his second boot then pulling off his pants and boxers.  “I’m getting ready!  Since you said it yourself, we need to get back to the bunker!”  He shrugged off the flannel and then pouted, “Unless this isn’t a good time because you don’t want me, or something?”

Cas made a show of licking his palm, lapping at the only bit of slick he was able to reach and moaned at the taste on his tongue.  He needed more.  He yearned to eat his omega out, and swallow down his slick right from the source before he fucked into him and knotted him.  Remembering there was a question, his husky voice dropped further and a rumbled, “Of course I want you,” finally sounded.

“Then hop on back,” Dean grinned, pulling off the last article of clothing.  “Join me.  It’s a no-clothes-zone though.  So you should probably start getting undressed.”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

There was _always_ a challenge that Dean threw Cas’ way, one that never failed to get him riled up.  Today was no different.  The alpha and omega were both volatile and perfect for each other.  But in circumstances like this, where the world was ending—yet again—and instead of rushing to save it, Castiel was tearing away his clothing, hidden away in a private drive for a quick fuck in the backseat of the car?

That was just… the story of their lives.

Everything was too much and not enough all at the same time, if that made any sense.

Castiel made the executive decision that he wouldn’t disrobe completely, because if they needed to make a hasty exit both of them being naked would be a disaster.  And he wanted to make a statement about this little game to his omega.

He didn’t hesitate climbing in the back, still in the button-up, pants on but unzipped and boxers the same way.  His cock was one tug away from being freed, that was what mattered.  

But still, Dean looked downright offended with wide eyes as he stammer, “The hell is this, Cas?!  Way to make me feel like a two-dollar whore!”

Just to prove the point, Cas yanked down the pants and boxers, and exposing his thick, pulsing cock.  After the alpha wrapped a hand around himself and lazily stroked a few times, he chuckled, “Trust me, Dean.  There will be no difference in the way I take you.”  Castiel crawled on top of him and hovered, burying his face against Dean’s throat.  He inhaled the purest of carnal hunger and he was aching to feed that need in both of them.  “Tell me, in this little charade, how did you imagine me having you?”

Now that he was within reach, Cas let his hand dive between Dean’s legs and he gasped.  The angel casually asked, while fingering Dean and coating his fingers with slick, “Did you imagine us making love?  Me laying you out and rocking into you gently?”  He twisted his fingers, making Dean whine when he changed it up with, “Did you want to present?  Give yourself up to me, your alpha, and act like the proper omega?”

Castiel pulled his finger away and, with a barely contained starvation, licked the slicked-up, dripping digits clean.  “Or did you wish to ride me, as others have done to _you_ in the past?”  Dean’s breath was caught in his throat; the possessive nature in the alpha always shined bright when they were in the car, and he knew he was in for it.

Luckily, Dean had enough foresight to lay down a blanket to save Baby’s backseat, but this mood Cas was in—fuck—he was going to soak through and friggin taint her in no time!

He was so caught up in the scents, in the whirlwind of frenzied want and love that Dean was left with a dropped jaw and the words, “How do you want me, alpha?” just to appease Cas.

“How do I want you?” he mused, and slammed their lips together once more.

Dean could taste himself, his own slick was so heavy on Cas’ tongue it was like he’d just gone down on him.  It surprised Dean for a half-second, but it didn’t make him flinch...actually, it was kind of sexy.  There was one thing, when the first got together, that unexpectedly shocked Dean.  Cas, his little nerdy angel of the Lord, was a freak in the sheets.  Dean hadn’t seen _that_ coming, he’d full well excepted that he’d need to walk Cas through sex, he’d need to train the angel, explain things to him but—

He couldn’t have been more wrong.  

Holy hell, some of the things Castiel did, Dean couldn't have prepared himself for.  Right now, it was their hips rutting together, cocks perfectly aligned with the hot friction giving way to moans in each other’s mouths.  Right as Dean dropped a hand to grab both of them, add more tension and something to thrust into, Cas pulled away.

Not only did Dean mourn the loss of contact to his cock, he missed his alpha’s lips and didn’t hesitate to complain, “C’mon, Cas.  You felt it, tasted it, how bad I’ve missed your dick.  How much I want it right now, fuck, please!  Tell me what to do!”  Maybe if he begged…

The angel appraised him and confirmed, “You are.  Wanting, needy.  I’m simply wondering what the best… _fit_ would be inside these uncomfortably close-quarters.”

All right, that was the only, _only_ thing on Dean’s list that you didn’t do.  No talking shit about Baby.

So Dean fearlessly pulled the ‘Asshole of a Mate’ card.

“Oh, close-quarters, huh?” Dean hummed, looking around thoughtfully.  “I’ve lost track of how many people weren’t bothered by the _close-quarters_ in here, Cas.  Sounds to me like you’re not quite as adventurous as they were, are you—”

Dean deserved it, he knew he did.

Still, the hand gripping low around the base of his throat and the cock buried balls-deep inside him was a feral show of strength.  Just like the way Cas had all but crunched Dean's body, folded in half, making him shout out—dumbfounded and overwrought with sensations.  One of which was fighting tooth and nail to get the wind back into his lungs, because Cas was deliberately controlling his airflow, dammit!

Oh, Dean got him, and the cock filling him up now—no matter how suddenly and how quickly Cas was already beginning to move?   _So_ worth it.

While the angel was glaring something fierce, almost punishing Dean for his antics, this was exactly what the omega wanted and Castiel had played right into his hands.  He lifted his hips to meet Cas’ and moaned.

Castiel demanded, “Why must you deliberately frustrate me?  When you already know what topics I _loathe_ thinking and hearing about, and then suddenly you brag about them,” his teeth were ground together and his hips snapped near-violently.  “Why?”

With his devil-may-care grin, Dean was panting, speaking made damn difficult by the iron-clad hand, but he struggled through it to explain, “Because I love to see you snap.  I love it when you’re p-passionate.  When you _act_ instead’a think.  You think too much, ya gotta f-feel.”

“And in doing so, I must ‘feel’ annoyance about your previous sexual conquests, right here, where I’m fucking you?”  Castiel’s voice was more like a snarl, because Dean’s answer didn’t help, if anything it did the opposite.

Dean shouted out something long and unashamed, his alpha grazing his sweet spot in the middle of the chaotic, almost vengeful pumps of his hips.  But he couldn’t be _that_ pissed off, because once Cas found that angle, he wasn’t letting up.  The omega was already feeling heady because of the rolled-up windows, their emotions and arousal running wild and flooding inside the locked the cab.  They were completely scent-drunk on one another.  So much so that Dean had to quell his mate, put him out of his misery.

“Yer the best I ever had, Cas.”  Dean writhed into the onslaught and the grip around his neck slackened when Dean blurted out, “Only one I ever loved, too.  Gotta mean something, right?”

Cas scoffed and released his hand completely, ducking down to scent Dean’s neck.  Every small nuance he breathed in told Cas his mate was close.  “You are insufferable.  You’re impossible to read when you come up with these schemes—instead of pushing me to a breaking point, why not tell me what you want?”  The angel didn’t slow, but he did change the tone, the _type_  of intensity, by cupping the side of Dean’s face and directing his lustful, heated gaze.  “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know.”  The omega smiled, turned his head to kiss the edge of Cas’ hand.  “But why ruin the surprise?”

A deadpanned, “I highly dislike surprises,” was returned.  “All I want to do is please you, Dean.”    
  
Then, the next part came out in a rush, because they’d been distracted until now.  Something that neither of them had thought about, let alone mentioned—because of the omega being a little shit—was about to happen.  It was now or never when Cas demanded, “What were you planning?   _Can_ I knot you?  Do we have _time_?” and it was urgent.

“Fuck yes, babe,” Dean rolled his entire body through the line of his spine, having felt the tug of Cas’ knot along his rim moments before and wondering if he was going to pull out.  “I _need_ you inside me.  I wanna milk you for cum, Cas.”  He realized aloud with disbelief, “The hell, it was so long since the last time, and even last time you pulled out!  I’d say we’re owed this!”  There was a charged ferocity to the omega’s voice upon revelation, one that made it even more important they had this.

“That…” a moan was ripped from Cas’ lungs, mid-sentence, his knot beginning to swell, locking inside Dean.  He tried to speak once more, sweat now dripping freely and soaking the clothes he’d stubbornly refused to take off, with his orgasm on the horizon, “That is unacceptable.  I’ll make sure you remember this.”

As if the brutality of the sex wasn’t enough, Castiel took that vow and ran with it—taking it a step further by descending upon Dean’s neck and getting lost in his scent—leaving visible marks anywhere he could get his mouth on.  He was shrugging off that damn shirt as well, he couldn’t take it anymore!  Each graze, nip and hickey left the omega a mewling, wrecked mess, and he’d been _trying_ to hold back… but he couldn’t anymore!

“Cas!”  It was the only shouted word Dean could manage as his orgasm flooded his senses, no warning, no nothing—he’d been on the edge for _too_ long.  He didn’t dive in, he was dragged under and now he was spinning, searching for the surface.

There was an amazing surprise waiting for Dean: Cas’ bare chest, they were _finally_ skin to skin!  Now the way Castiel sunk into Dean was a smooth ride, their bodies pressed as close as possible, Dean’s release coating both of them.  And the omega soaked up every single second of it, his alpha’s strong arms, his defined muscles pushing and pulling, and his hot skin—better late than never.

Castiel had this quirk.  It was adorable, sexy _and_ anxiety-inducing at the same time.  When he was about to blow his load, when he was about to stretch Dean on his knot and keep him plugged up with a hot, sloppy and sometimes intense amount of cum—he craved connection.  The profound-bond-mated-and-in-love kind of connection.  He _had_ to kiss Dean.

There was no denying that there wasn’t a day, an hour, a minute that Dean didn’t feel the same way but… humans had to breathe!  Once upon a time, Dean was so blissed-out, didn’t know what was going on and kept up with the pace.  That landed him with a freaked-out, overprotective alpha and a KO instead of a Big O, because nothing kills a boner like fainting and then being mother-henned.

So they needed to be more careful.

Now, Cas’ lips were on his, ravaging him and he could feel his knot, pressing up against his insides and stretching him more and more by the second.  Dean gasped, from both the sensation and the need for air.  But it didn’t look like Cas was hanging up his cap quite yet.

The alpha was huffing and continued, just slowing down about a notch, telling Dean, “Now that you’ve said it, I feel like I need to make this count.  Who knows when we’ll have another chance, right?”

“I’ve created a monster…” Dean realized with a gulp, which turned into a strangled noise as Cas’ knot pulsed, and another rush of hot cum surged through, this round creating a pressure.  “Cas!  Hey, you g-gotta slow down.  Please?”  His voice was pathetic, but it did seem to affect the pace of the angel’s hips, nearly stopped—almost swaying now.  “I g-gotta be in fighting shape, not down for the count because of some ridiculously _awesome_ sex.  Can't you imagine how Sam would kill me?”

Everything seemed to be soothing the alpha, coaxing him into understanding.    
  
Until that final comment.     
  
Goddammit!   _Why_ was Cas smirking about Sam getting pissed off at him?!  Was this some petty revenge?  Because that one made him roll his hips, made him grind into Dean, made him fuck him _deeper_ —not harder or faster.

This was something that shook Dean, because Cas’ knot was sliding around, the cum acting in tandem with his slick, pushing his body to the limit when he’d pull him in further.  Cas used his weight and gravity to sink into Dean’s ass as deep as humanly possible.  Of course, the assault led to the omega squirming, quaking, and most importantly—clenching.

Cas was sucking a massive hickey low on his mate’s throat when he filled the omega with a third load, and Dean actually yelped from the sensation.  The angel’s guttural groan of final satisfaction, of mind and body both being sated and now _thoroughly_ claiming their omega as he _should_ be claimed… well, Cas’ job was done.

Almost.

Dean was wrapped tighter than a wind-up doll, and Cas gently said, “Relax, Dean,” while washing a hand over his lower stomach.

Just like that, the overwhelming pressure and what Dean honestly thought were going to be tears subsided.  He could breathe easy.  And it made him wonder… Castiel probably _could_ mojo them apart, unknot them just as easy.  If he wanted to hit the road, get back on the case, something like that.  Since they were ‘due back at the Bunker,’ like, _now_.

But, nope.  Dean was thrilled to see his alpha take time to be a little selfish.  To curl up on Dean’s chest, allowing his omega to play with his hair and wait for this to happen ‘naturally.’  Which was ironic, because as soon as Cas’ knot went down enough to pull out, the mess would be just that…a goddamn _mess_.  Yet, with a snap of his fingers, Cas could clean that up just as easily, too.

He had to know that Dean knew.  He didn’t think it was a total idiot, did he?

“Hey,” Dean kept his voice low, as to not interrupt the afterglow and this stolen moment.  “I know I push yer buttons and I’m an assclown sometimes… but I really do love you.  You know that, right?”

Blue eyes peered up, and there was no hesitation when Cas replied, “Of course, Dean.  And I love you.  I understand our dynamic leaves room for chaos, but that goes to prove how much more powerful our bond is than a different alpha, omega pair.  You know that, right?”  He repeated the question phrasing in the exact tone that Dean did, as to tease Cas but it really was all out of affection.

“Oh, now you’re getting lippy!” the omega couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Next time?  I’m expecting you top to bottom naked from the beginning.  No exceptions!” Dean tugged the dark hair he’d been playing with and then kissed Cas’ forehead.  “It’s more fun!  And freeing.”

“Until the police do a routine inspection and check to see if anyone is violating any ‘No Trespassing’ signs.”

“Have you always been this cheeky?”  It was obviously rhetorical, but Cas answered it, nevertheless.

He leaned up enough to force Dean‘s chin towards him and stated, “I believe you had some influence over my ‘cheekiness.’  Your outward persona is about 67% sarcasm and dramatics.  Even when I get you alone and we don’t have to worry about you putting up a front, the rest of the time you… give me much material to pick up on.”

“Sixty-seven, huh?  Oh, those are crappy odds!  Don’t believe them one bit,” Dean stood firm on this one, even though it might very well have been the case.  Shit.  “Whatever!”  He stopped the conversation in its tracks before Cas could provide a PowerPoint or something, because he wouldn’t put it past the angel.  Hell, he was pretty sure that percentage added up anyway.

Dean then realized his sexually-charged words from earlier were correct, reflected back at him right now, and he groused loudly (while embracing Cas tightly in his arms), “I _have_ created a monster.  A fuckin' gorgeous, sexy, perfect monster, but a monster nonetheless.”

With a heavy eye roll, Castiel countered, “Need I remind you of the theatrical part of my ratio?”

“Nope.  No, think we’re all set,” Dean mussed up Cas’ hair just so he’d have the chance to run his hands through and fix it.  Or make it look somewhat presentable.  Since it always looked like he’d gone seven rounds with a storm system.

“Dramatics aside, I enjoy moments like this,” Cas admitted softly, which was actually unlike him.  He very rarely said anything meaningful or deliberately positive in the middle of an event because he was superstitious that something would go wrong.  He’d comment after it was over, just not now.

Obviously, Dean’s curiosity was piqued—even if he had to give a little bit of himself away to fish for answers from Castiel.  “Me, too.  These are some of my favorites times.  Your scent when you’re happy?  Nothin’ like it.  Knowing that I caused it?  Even better.  You know exactly how I feel about you.  So you know it’s heavy and why I had to make time for us.  Pleasing my alpha, heh, used to be the furthest thing from my mind… turns out, it’s a big fucking deal.  So that’s why these moments are great, even if they're kinda rare these days.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth…” Castiel’s voice was a little distant, until he zoned back in with a smile and confessed, “And you know I return those sentiments.  How I have and will do anything for you.  Even off-road intercourse in the back seat of your Baby while you rile me up until I’m forced to put you in your place.”

“I do it out of love!”  Dean protested.  “Besides.  It was just because you were talking trash about her, ya know.”

“I did no such thing.”  Castiel laughed openly, “You get so defensive, you always go straight to the worst-case scenario, Dean.  I do enjoy your car, and you know that.”  
  
“Good.”  A grin snaked onto Dean’s face when he teased, “‘Cause with the way things are goin’, I think this’ll be our motel on wheels for a little while.”     
  
There was a long lull of silence, one that Dean knew damn well was deliberate and so he smacked his mate in the arm.  Obviously, it wouldn’t do any damage and it ended up stinging Dean's own goddamn knuckles instead!  He grumbled, “Hey, you can’t say you enjoy Baby and then in the next sentence give her shit!  Not how it works, buddy!”   
  
Cas shook his head, leaning up to kiss the disgruntled expression off his omega’s face.  “Perhaps I’m giving you shit?  I wouldn’t mind another drive in the country soon, and you were the one who told me there are many ways to utilize the back seat.  You’ll have to show me.  You can start by riding me next time.  Proving there’s enough space, and such.”   
  
Dean _lived_ for that mischievous glint in his mate’s eyes, the slightly predatory body language that was all alpha and the possessive way he’d pin him down.  Now that Cas was within reach, he damn well took advantage.   
  
First, though, he agreed with his mate and said, “Oh, babe, I’d love to show you how it’s done,” and used the grip he had on Cas’ hair to haul him in closer.  “I can’t wait for our next drive.”  Then, their lips collided with a fierce chemistry that was all their own and they couldn’t stop touching, even when they cleaned up, and even on their way back to the bunker.   
  
The second they walked through the door, Sam knew exactly what had happened because of the stagger in Dean’s step, the hickeys and the ‘god-awful sex smells.’  He threw a raging fit, gave them the ‘it’s the end of the world, and you’re doing what?!’ talk, along with all the expletives they’d both expected—but it was worth it.   _So_ worth it.


End file.
